


Spring Tide

by TenkeyLess



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fighting Side by Side, Gen, Incognito Elidibus, Minor Injuries, ambiguous WoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenkeyLess/pseuds/TenkeyLess
Summary: Leviathan has fallen to the Warrior, yet they are not yet home and safe to celebrate the victory...A little what-if post-Leviathan between Elidibus (in disguise) and WoL.
Relationships: Elidibus & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Spring Tide

Someone...

<<...>>

<<...>> is calling.

You open salt-crusted eyes, blearily focusing on the grey skies above. Clouds shift across the firmament, a stiff breeze shepherding their fluffy shapes.

"Ah, you've awoken."

The low, smooth voice sounds again by your side, and you slowly force your stiff neck to turn. A silver-haired hyur crouches at your side, amethyst eyes studying yours intently. A sudden coughing fit bends you in two, lungs trying to empty what ought not be there. Snapping to a sitting position, you heave, spitting sea water and Twelve knows what else onto the sand. A soothing hand rubs circles into your back as you empty your lungs, tears pricking from the force of your convulsing.

"What--", you clear your throat, raspy and raw. "What happened."

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Casting your gaze about, you study your surroundings, looking for a clue to jog your water-logged memory. Shards of wood litter the sandy beach, some large enough to serve as a raft. Slowly the image of serpentine coils lit by lightning in a stormy sky return to you.

"I was... fighting Leviathan. He was mortally wounded, but our barge was struck, shattered as he went down..."

"I spotted you here, on the beach, washed up with the flotsam." 

You turn back to the man, cataloging his appearance properly as well as the heaps of two large, dead mantis behind him. White leather, well oiled and supple, wraps his torso in lightly gleaming armor over a fitted bliaud. His long silver hair is pulled back in a loose clasp, tucked neatly over one shoulder. A violet magical focus peeks out from his side, strapped there along with a wicked rapier stained blue with mantis blood. Mind slowly churning to put the pieces together, you meet his expectant gaze.

"Did you protect me?"

Shifting back on his heels, the man smiles wryly.

"I would not be much of a rescuer if I allowed the wildlife to sup on you first, hmm?"

You feel your lips pull into a tired smile, wry humor just your brand. Everything aches, and sees fit to remind you as he offers you a hand to stand. Half pulling you up, you stagger into him, ungraceful, and murmur an apology as you step away. His smile remains in place nonetheless, graciously giving you space to collect yourself.

Taking stock of your tattered appearance, you immediately note your linkpearl missing. Seven hells, you curse softly, no way to call for aid, then. There's very little of you not bruised, battered and exhausted by your fight with the Lord of the Whorl--a Teleport would be out of the question. You'll need some other way to get back to the Scions. Brushing your salt-crusted armor free of sand, you observe your surroundings more thoroughly.

"This is the Isles of Umbra, isn't it. I recognize this beach."

"An astute observation." Your rescuer's voice is cool and crisp on the salty sea air, and you find yourself oddly keen to hear more of it.

"If that's the case, then I know where to find the Limsan outpost to call a ride back to the mainland." A victorious flush lights your cheeks, optimism undeterred by your sea-ruined armor or your missing linkpearl. Catching yourself, you turn to the man waiting patiently beside you.

"Ah, I am sorry to impose, but might I request your continued escort, dear rescuer? I find myself quite out of sorts, and there is assuredly more wildlife between here and the outpost."

Bowing with formality better suited to a ballroom, the man extends a hand to you.

"But of course. I would be remiss to leave this rescue half complete."

You take his hand, warm through the glove he wears. The wildlife stands little chance between the pair of you, undead and sea creature alike falling to his magicks and your blows. The crackle of aether about your rescuer's form is arresting, graceful movements laden with all the raw power of a thaumaturge. In elegant counterpart, his sword work is refined and equally deadly as he channels aether into the thin blade. Pausing several times during battle to simply watch him, entranced, it occurs to you belatedly how odd it is to find a powerful mage simply cruising the beach to aid you. Yet he does not feel like a stranger, not truly. Something about the way he moves _calls_ to you, and as you cleave your way through another undead, you dare to voice your niggling question.

"Do I know you?"

Wiping the back of his glove across his brow, he looks to you, expression placid despite the sheen of sweat on his skin.

"I do, don't I."

A half remembered tune sticks to the back of your tongue, watching him in battle prodding at a memory long forgotten. He watches, lavender eyes intent as you dig for the elusive thought. It evades your grasp, slippery as an eel and twice as desperate, faint chimes rising to smother your efforts. Frowning in concentration, it takes your rescuer's shout and thrown rapier past your ear to snap you back to reality.

Spinning about, you clumsily dodge the undead sailor's next strike, bringing your weapon up in a clash of blades. A streak of white lunges past you, your rescuer reclaiming his rapier and sending a Verthunder down the blade into the heart of the creature. With a meaty _crack_ the undead falls, animating aether severed and scattered to the ambient air.

You gasp for breath, each motion a labor, limbs weighed down from how tired you feel. Thanking Hydaelyn for such a competent rescuer, you pull yourself back upright, only to sag as your wounds sap your strength. The mage catches you as you stumble, strong arms bracing you upright.

"Just a moment," you pant, gritting your teeth at the burn of a fresh scrape. Gentle hands run down your side, brushing over the red seeping from below your armor. Hissing as he pushes against the new wound, you prepare to shake him off, only to freeze as chilling aether wraps around the worst of the hurt. Your head whips up, gaze searching his as the soothing bandage of Vercure tugs torn skin together, carrying with it a faint taste of the man's aether. Tongue working over the immaterial flavor, an impression of bergamot and covetous coils comes to mind. Your aether clings to his as he withdraws, like a magnet to its lodestone.

"Pray forgive the presumption." His eyes crease in an inoffensive smile. "I did not wish to have to carry you to the Limsan's doorstep. You should be able to bear your own weight, now."

He releases you, and you find his assessment true. While shakey, the worst of the pain is dulled to manageable levels. A tired grin tugs at your lips, exhaustion making your tongue blunt as he turns to deal with an encroaching enemy.

"Thank Hydaelyn you're so well equipped, stranger. I don't know how I would have handled this alone."

Your rescuer jolts, his foe going down in an arterial spray that spatters wetly across his otherwise immaculate torso. Looking down, you hear him sigh, disappointed, turning to face you absent his amiable mien. Amethyst eyes freeze you in place as he forcefully strides towards you, lips pressed in a thin line.

"What--" you splutter, limbs numb as you stagger backwards to create some space, heart drumming an alarmed beat. You can't help but wonder what part of your compliment has offended him so, to drop that persistent smile. A sharp outcrop of rock digs into your back as you run out of room to escape, chasm walls hemming you in. Slamming a palm onto the stone over your shoulder, your rescuer leans in to you, eyes crinkled in an insincere smile.

"If you have praise to convey, pray deliver it directly."

He lingers there, over you, for a moment longer before withdrawing back to cordial distance. Rushing blood fills your ears as your heart thrums at a breakneck tempo, watching him go with wide eyes. A flush burns up your neck as he turns to go, leading the way through the next pack of monsters.

Your heartbeat is _nearly_ back to normal by the time the Limsan outpost comes into view.

"And here is where we part ways." With a gurgle, the last wildlife barring your way falls to his rapier, lithesome weapon flicking to dislodge the lingering lifeblood. His empty tone echoes in your ears. You merely stare as he sheaths his weapon, draws back, bows. Forcing yourself to respond in kind, your body creaks into a stiff bow, gesture feeling inadequate for the service he's rendered. You would doubtlessly be in worse shape had he not happened upon you, odd behaviors aside.

Your heart pangs painfully as he turns to go, arm outstretched before you realize it's moving. Forcing the unwelcome hand down, with how frigidly he received your last compliment, you keep to a polite farewell as he departs.

"Thank you, dear rescuer, for--", your throat closes, choking off your weak goodbye. Shaking your head, you try again as he glances back to you. "Thank you for your timely intervention. I appreciate your kindness, and will remember it should you need aid in kind."

You stride off before he can respond, waving a hand to hail the Yellowjacket guards ahead.

* * *

Rolling the stolen linkpearl between his forefinger and thumb, Elidibus watches as the Warrior hails the Limsan navy, relatively safe, now. They continue to surprise him, his aether still smarting after they'd brushed against the fringes of his deep reserves when he chanced to heal them. Toxic to the touch, their Blessing, a significant obstacle but not an insurmountable one. That Hydaelyn saw fit to intervene and suppress their stuttering song of recall was notable. With a fully invested Blessing, they ought not have been able to resist Her at all.

Yet they did.

Elidibus flicks the pearl into the air, armor melting back into his habitual robes as it falls to his waiting palm. The spray of beastkin blood remains across his torso, and his lip curls at the unpleasant reminder. Disgusting. He waves a hand, dissipating it to naught as he considers the situation at hand. Perhaps they might find a new ally in this particular Champion.

The last bearer of a fully invested Blessing had necessitated the fall of Allag to crush them, and that was after only three Shards Rejoined. At seven, the Champion would be an inexcusable threat should they veer too far to the Light.

Placing their linkpearl in his ear, Elidibus listens to the Scions' frantic calls for their Warrior, permitting a small, satisfied smile to cross his lips.

Yes, a candidate worth watching indeed. Certainly worthy of the time spent to preserve them. Perhaps Nabriales could be prevailed upon to monitor their progress...

**Author's Note:**

> You **can't** tell me there was _nothing_ between Elidibus introducing himself in 2.X and when WoL meets him again in 3.0. So here's an indulgent little scene between them \o/
> 
> There might be more in this vein, down the line, should more thoughts for such scenes occur o/
> 
> Enjoy this fic? Want to chat about and posit ideas with fellow FFXIV fic-readers? Come on in and check out the [Bookclub discord](https://discord.gg/PvbG45u). I wouldn't have started writing without their encouragement! <3


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